Determined Pastel
A lavender construction, softly strong
When fresh, is held in place now by a vase
Of shaft-like shape which makes the short life long —
Or stretches it at least. This is because
A terror known as death is creeping from
Within the rose and so it needs support.
A silent, beating, beatless black-topped drum
Is marking out the measured time. No court
Of high appeal will stop the doom and yet
The blossom does not want to yield. Blue Moon
It’s named and its vague shrivelling is met
With memories of a vigorous sweet noon
Before slight wiltingness, and of delight
In fragrance given at the petals’ height.